Category: hurt

Someone asked me about you

Someone asked me about you a few days ago. They asked me who was the girl that made me grin like a lunatic. It made me stop and think how to tell them about you. I looked up the sky in hope to find inspiration.

I could have said “She looks like Aphrodite.”

But then that wouldn’t do you justice. So I searched again for the right words, trying to think about you. I thought about your hair, the way it curled at the end. I thought about your lips, how they perfectly melted into mine. I thought about your eyes. Damn your eyes. They would entrance me every time I saw it, and I never wanted to look away.

My friends looked at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. I searched for words again. They laughed at me and told me I was whipped, and I never denied it. The breeze coming from the trees stirred my hair, as we walked back to our office. Then after awhile, I turned to them and said:

“Have you ever been to the beach?”

They all nodded looking curiously at me, and I continued:

“Well she’s like that. Close. When you’re around her you feel a certain breeze float through. You feel relaxed, and the deeper you dig into the sand, the more happier and carefree you would feel. You feel like you could just run all the way to the other side of an island.

Like water she reflects. She can reflect someone’s happiness as if it were her own. At night when everything’s dark, she glows. Every indent a person makes in the sand she takes and she keeps it in her memory. Every wave gentle and she washes up treasures from her own self.

She can make you listen to everything she says, just like how you’d want to listen to the sounds of the ocean. Sure she sometimes turns into storms and wreaks havoc, but she does everything she could to make it up to you. You know what I mean?”

I looked at the three of them, each had a different expression. After awhile they smiled at me, and patted my back. We each went in the building’s elevator, and we pressed our different floors.

“We hope to meet her soon okay man?” One of them said when he reached his floor.

 After a while I was alone as the elevator continued to make my stomach drop. As I heard a familiar ding I walked out and proceeded to walk towards my cubicle. My neighbor smiled at me, her gaze kind. I then sit down on my computer and log in. I smile as I see you face, smiling brightly into the camera. You were showing off your engagement ring, a blush on your cheeks. My eyes then look further below the picture, with the text:

My beloved angel,
1988-2010

Bully Acceptance



If you took one look at me today, you’d say that I’m a feisty girl and “mataray”. Some even have called me “over confident”, being able to say what I want and do anything I want within reason. You can look at me and say that I’m really comfortable with the fact that I’m always by myself, that I could handle anything. But you know what? Since I was a kid I haven’t changed much. And though presently my characteristics as being temperamental and being brave enough to do things may be seen as something unique, but when I was a kid it was seen as a threat. A threat I usually had to face by myself.
Growing up, I was taught the difference between right and wrong. I was taught that you should always put yourself in the other person’s shoes, causing me to think critically, to be sympathetic and to be understanding.  This caused me to have loyal friends when I was in elementary. But this also caused me to have the worst enemies. 
Although I had friends, I still like the thought of being alone at times. I wasn’t a real loner, it was just I was more comfortable keeping things to myself. I realized this just as I was turning seven years old, because I loved to wander around my school usually alone. There was a spot just above our cafeteria where I would just sit and eat my snacks. I would climb to the highest point of the stairs and just ate by the door of the second floor since the door was usually locked.
In class, I was the “new waraynon girl” because my family moved from Tacloban to Maasin because of my mom’s work. So while adjusting to the new language, I spoke in English because I was so used to hear my mom speak english. Although a lot were amazed of how I spoke english, some didn’t. I was branded as “sosyalera” because I couldn’t speak Tagalog that well. But that was the least of my problems when it came to bullying.
One normal day I went up to my usual spot during snack time. While I was going up the stairs, I noticed my classmates’ shoes on the bottom of the stairs. I didn’t think too much of it, knowing that the 2nd floor was open because there was a program there that day. Suddenly my classmates cajoled me into going inside, and that’s when I realized they were the naughty boys who were always sent to the principal. 
Suddenly one of them ran off with my half-eaten sandwich. I impulsively ran after him, when the tallest one in their group held my hand tightly, hugging me slightly. He then motioned his hand and hovered it to my “down there” area. Thinking fast, I held my bottle full of water that was hung on my shoulder and hit his head hard with it. I ran before any of his friends caught up with me. I was scared. I don’t remember much, but I do remember not going to school the next day, saying I was sick. I then told my mom everything, and they were sent to the principal. But sadly, they never stopped there.
About a year after, when I was eight, they were still my classmates. There was a time in class, when the teacher would ask everyone who sat at the back to come forward. Since I was already at the front I didn’t have to move. Unfortunately, the bullies sat at the back, and they comfortably sat in front of me. Now I want you to imagine what kind of desks we had. It was a wooden desk just like the ones at church where there was a seat at the front. So the boys would sit there, and when the teachers weren’t looking they would reach below, and they would try to hitch up my skirt. Now comes the humiliating part. When I told the teacher upfront during class, she only said that the boys were just playing around. But it made me uncomfortable, and I knew it wasn’t right. But my classmates were laughing at me for being so “sensitive” so I never really told anyone that. I didn’t like anyone touching me “down there” anymore. It’s still true to this day. I just wasn’t comfortable.
Luckily, the next year I got into a class which didn’t include them. But then the other gender began to pick on me. I always wanted to have something different, and I used to have this bead set wherein I’d make my own bracelets. One time this girl from my class called it ugly, and ripped it from my hand causing the beads to fall to the ground. But for some reason I didn’t care anymore. The next year my family moved back to Tacloban and I was happy to be finally rid of all the bullies. Little did I know that there were more out there.
I was in fifth grade when I transferred. I naturally didn’t know anyone, except for those whom I had summer classes with, but we weren’t close. It was harder to make friends when you had a Bisaya accent and you were the youngest in class. They didn’t understand me, the things I was doing. 
On the first few weeks of class, I didn’t have my uniform yet because the tailor wasn’t finished with them yet. So I wore either shorts or pants to school, and pairing them with my blouses that my mom bought for me. Since I was comfortable anyway with being myself, I played in the playground by myself. It was a sad sight to be honest, but I really didn’t care. I would go to the library alone, immersing myself with books. The librarian who worked there is still my friend to this day.
Soon enough, the teasing started. They began calling me “Miss Playground” or the girl who loved to flaunt her Barbie blouses. I was ashamed, so I never went to playground alone again. I pleaded my mom for my uniform, and I got them. I was soon making friends with the very people who bullied me, because I knew they just didn’t know me enough so they judged me. It was in the middle of the school year when I found a best friend, so I felt like everything was going to change. As usual, I was wrong.
In sixth grade, my “best friend” began ignoring me, so I was once more on my own. I found a “sister” though, and we became inseparable. But when we befriended two other girls, we became “personal assistants” in a way. They made it clear that they were the Alphas and we were the Betas. My friend and I didn’t mind though. We still enjoyed being with each other.
But although I had a best friend, I was never comfortable in telling people my problems. That’s when I discovered my love for writing. I wrote everything I could think about, all my bottled up feelings. Until the day my adviser took my diary, and I felt outraged. To make things worse, it was my own best friend who ratted me out. But as forgiving as I am, it didn’t bother me. When graduation day came, I thought it was bound to get better. Not.
I was shocked on the first day of highschool when I saw my name in the “smart” class. I was so used on being in the average class that all my friends were in the average class. So I was pretty intimidated when I entered the classroom. I felt like I was being judged, like they sensed that I didn’t belong in that room with them. I was lucky that my “sister” was in that same class, but she quickly had her own group of friends. 
And as try as I might, I was never really accepted into the group she was in. I always felt left out. I usually came home crying, blaming myself for being so darn different. There was a time when I cried in school, but I always composed myself, not letting them see me broken. As used I was to being alone, I really wanted to feel accepted for once in my life. I was going through the “identity crisis” stage, and I lowered myself into picking up their trash, being as obedient as a dog, just so they would finally accept me. I just wanted to please them. But everything just backfired. Soon enough they were calling me a cruel name, “Chimiaa” At first I didn’t understand it, but then I had a feeling it meant maid. That was the night I attempted what no twelve year old should do, I attempted suicide. 
I was just so tired of everything. Of not being smart enough, of not being pretty enough, and all that jazz. I ended up just having a small wound, which was easily covered by my watch. Stupidly enough, I was afraid of blood, so I didn’t go through with making a big wound.
 From that time on, I always resorted to hurting myself. I knew it was wrong, but other than writing there wasn’t another way to get it out. I secretly did it, hating myself the next morning. Then when I was in my sophomore year, I did the stupidest thing. I let them read my diary. They liked how I wrote, so I let them read it. It became a novel to them, and I was happy to have pleased them. I have let the bully accept me. From then on, I got used to get picked on. I got used to being pushed around. As long as I had “friends.”
Fortunately for me, when I was in my senior year they became my real friends. I also had other friends from the lower years, and I felt like the world was at last in balance. I didn’t feel bullied anymore. They just had to know me to be able to accept me. I felt happy. That was when I built my confidence. That was when I looked back and saw that I would never be the person to be stepped on again. That gave me confidence. Having friends who didn’t really talked about me behind my back and having an understanding boyfriend helped too.
So to clear everything up, that’s my story. I was bullied and I walked away from it. Through the tragedies, through the mess and everything else in between, I could tell myself I was really strong and brave because I was able to endure all of that. I know that after you people read this, some of you will pity me. Please don’t. Because without all that, I wouldn’t be the girl I am today. Strong, confident and ready to face anything. 
My point is this though: not everyone could have been as brave as I was. Not everyone could have been strong enough. So after you read this I hope you realize that bullying is not something to be overlooked. I was lucky enough that I had writing to distract me from everything. But what about the kid you taunted? Is it fair to think that they have something to distract them from the pain you caused? Always, and I repeat, ALWAYS, put yourself in their shoes. This is why I never resorted to bullying myself, because I put myself in other people’s shoes. You should never judge a person so easily. Be human enough to think about what they might be going through.

Could you be human enough to put yourself in their shoes?

The light


CHAPTER 1

For the nth time, Jack and I broke up. It’s the third time this month, so many times before that and I think I’m getting tired of him. It’s his ego again, just because he became student president doesn’t mean he can boss me around. Our last conversation went this way:
“Would you please grow up Taylor and just carry my bag to the gym without all that whining?” he said.
I replied with a frustrated “Well why can’t you just carry this stupid bag so you won’t hear my whining?”
“Stop being so childish Taylor. I can’t be seen carrying a bag as the new student body president”
He shot me a look of irritation, and I wanted to whack him in the head so that he can remember who his campaign manager was. Who made his ridiculous posters? Who edited his corny speech? So I answered back “If that’s the way it’s going to be then I’m tired of carrying around your luggage!”
I turned around and started to walk away when he ran after me and said 
“I’m sorry Tay. I’m such a dork. Come on babe.” I felt like I was about to vomit, he knows how I dread being called babe. So I looked at him in the eye, and said 
“Don’t you dare call me anymore. I need space from your ego.” 
So I left, and as I walked away, feeling triumphant, and I suddenly felt that I needed someone else, that our relationship was getting nowhere.
The days that came after “the fight”, I tried to focus on other things other than Jake. Like trying to find a new guy. But heck, how can I if I see him at class every day, see him during student council meetings, and we have to ride the very same bus ride home.  He’s so annoying! He keeps on texting me like a freak and keeps tagging me on Facebook with his corny poems. When we’re on the bus, he keeps on staring at me. I told him to get the hell out of my life, but he keeps on holding on. He sent me a corny “I’m sorry” message through text, with flowery words, and I just had to delete the message. Gross. He knows I hate public displays or even private display of affection.
Ahhhh…. A new guy. Cute, nice and doesn’t have a trace of a big ego. But, I keep forgetting his name. Was it Drake something? I don’t know and I couldn’t care less. I just need someone to distract me from Jack’s big ego. And maybe I’d find someone for the long run who is able to keep up with my crazy antics.
“Can’t we work this out? Please? It’s been a month.” ah. That was Jack, actually BEGGING. Ha-ha. Maybe I could give him another…NAH! Let him suffer. He saw me earlier with Mark, I mean John, I mean Ted! I’m not keeping track of my dates. His face was all red and a bit of green with a bit of blue. So he looked like an almost rainbow. Ha-ha. Served him right.
He’s becoming more desperate. He called me at my house, then he started saying sorry for all the things he did wrong. He actually had a LIST. The time we first broke up because he mispronounced my name when he dedicated me a song during prom was my favourite. He said “Thailor”. Everyone laughed while I went up the stairs and let him eat the tulip he gave me. Served him right. Then, when he wore that ridiculous t-shirt I told him never to wear when we went out. I mocked him openly all the way home. I hated it because it said:” I’m with my honey pie” I told him, “Are you that stupid? You’re so gay!” Then we broke up. Still we manage to get back together. This fight was the longest record so far, a month and a half. Huh. I kind of miss him.
After a week, he was so sweet to me, and I keep on telling him to stop sending me stupid poems. He kept on keeping it on places where other people could read it. I tried to pretend not to see it, but after classes, I always go back to the classroom and get them. He’s such an idiot. But he’s a real cute idiot.
It reminds me how we first met, during one of those fun runs that aren’t really fun. They just use the money for the school, and we benefit from it because we get exercise, blah.blah.blah. We were both freshmen at that time, and I was just recovering from my gothic stage. When I saw him I naturally thought that he would have a girlfriend. Blonde hair, gorgeous looks, big ego, and a great body. But curiously enough, he didn’t. So while I was “running”, I didn’t notice my shoelaces were untied. So, Mr. Blonde here stepped on my laces, causing me to fall. He didn’t hear me when I called out to him because he was too busy listening to music. I threw a rock at him, and that got his attention. He ran back to me and said
“What is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? You’re the one stepping on shoelaces!”
“Maybe if you tied them, then I wouldn’t have stepped on them.”
I never thought that through, so I didn’t say anything. Then he noticed my bruised leg. When I tried to get up I noticed my sprained ankle, and I limped. Then he held me and said:
“Here, let me help you towards the paramedics.”
“It’s not your fault remember?”
“Yeah, but I just don’t want you creating a mess over the race.”
I tried to get away from him, but he was too strong. Finally I gave in and let him take me to the van. He left me alone after that, but I couldn’t forget the way he wanted to get away from me as fast as he could.
He wants to talk to me in person. Oh my gosh. I hate confrontation, especially with him because he knows how to make my knees bend. He’s that good. His friends looked like grinning freaks, and they actually stayed at the side so that they could hear what Jack and I are going to talk about.
 “Taylor, don’t you love me anymore?” he first asked me. 
I love you dork, I just can’t tell you. I thought.
“Why, does it matter?” I blurted out.
“Because, I love you Taylor, more than anyone else.” he looked serious, I wanted to laugh at him. But I suppress the urge, and replied 
“Why me?” 
He stared at me, and then replied 
“Because you give me every reason to. You hate all my stuff, but you still love me. You” 
I cut him off “How sure are you that I love you?”
“Don’t interrupt please,” I had to close my mouth as he continued.
“You want me to focus all my attention on you, you even moved my basketball practice on days that you’re too lazy to hang out with me. You like to push my friends away because you say they’re too clingy.” This comment made his eavesdropping friends give me an angry look. “You always have this talent of making a beautiful day ugly because you want that you’re the only beautiful thing I see.” I smiled at that, but I had to quickly erase it so he wouldn’t see it. Sadly, it was too late. “Did you just smile?” he asked, showing his own smile. “No I did not.” I tried not to laugh, because I sounded like I was flirting with him. “Aha! You did smile!” We both laughed this time, and he hugged me. Did I have to remind him I hate displays of affection? But, I needed to hug him back, because I really missed his antics. We’re back to this, again. 
The next day, we went to the mall so I could buy him something decent when he comes to meet my parents this weekend. I threw away all his shirt and jeans leaving his bedroom a mess. “Come on, your parents won’t judge me because of how I look like. They’ll love me like you did”
I raised my brow at him and said “You’re right. I DID love you. Right before you said that last comment.”
He laughed and said, 
“How can I even pay for all if these? I quit from my job last month.”
I took out my wallet and took out a credit card. “That’s because you’re so lazy. I’ll pay.”
He peered at the card and said “Hey, that’s your dad’s credit card.” I told him to shush, and then paid for the stupid clothes.
I drove him home, and on the way, the car suddenly stopped. I checked the gas meter, and saw that it was empty. 
“Jack, come here. Why the hell is the gas tank empty? Didn’t I tell you to fill it up?!”
He looked at me and said “No. You never said anything.”
I shot him the look that said ‘are you that irresponsible?’ I sat quietly in the car, trying to give him the cold shoulder.
 “Hey, are you ok?” he asked when he sat beside me. He got out again, got something from the back of the trunk. It was some kind of jug, and then he walked to the front trunk and filled up the gas tank. I stared at the gas meter going up, almost full. He got back inside, and then told me to turn on the car. Miraculously, the car started, and he closed the trunk.
“Are we okay now?” 
he asked as we drove back to his house. I kissed him lightly on his cheek then I started complaining about how the car was so small and that I needed him to buy me a new car for my birthday so I won’t kiss anyone else. He smiled, looked at me and held my hand. 
“Hey, I’m driving, you want me to veer into an accident coz you’re holding my hand? Geez.” I shrugged off his hand and smiled.
That’s just me and jack, hot and cold, yes and no. I drive him crazy, but he drives me crazier in love. We’re the almost perfect couple, and the almost disaster couple, but we still love each other still.
But lately something has been bothering me. I can’t avoid it, and I’m afraid Jack would see it through me. I can’t fight it, and it’s irreversible. I can’t tell Jack yet, but I will. Eventually.
CHAPTER 2
“Seriously man? Why can’t you just loose that girl? She’s so bossy!” I should have been used to Nathan’s comments about Taylor, but lately he’s been talking about her more often. “She makes you look like her maid or something. You need to take power man. You’re the new student council president; you don’t need a girl like her.” That was the final straw. I love having Taylor boss me around, but when my friends say it’s too much, I just can’t bear the thought of looking like my girlfriend’s maid.
Stupid, stupid, STUPID! Taylor came with me to the gym earlier. On the way, I kept thinking about my conversation with Nathan that I took it out on Taylor, big mistake. The next thing I knew, she was screaming at me and she was starting to walk away. I ran after her, but she gave me the stare that could have sunk titanic’s ship. I apologized a million times, but she just pushed me away. STUPID! Note to self never listen to single people!
I told my pals about it, but instead of helping me find a way to get back with Taylor, they celebrated. They bought beer and chips and told me it was bachelor night. 
“Leave me alone man. I love Taylor.” 
I stood up and began to leave. I know those boys will forgive me someday, but I wasn’t so sure about Taylor doing the same. I need to step up the game.
The next few days, I kept a safe distance from Taylor, but still I can’t seem to avoid her. It’s like destiny is pushing me to her. So, I started sending her small poems, making my Facebook statuses obvious so that she was sure to see it. But what do I get? Being pushed away farther. I need to woo her again.
I just bought Taylor a new bracelet to replace the one she threw at me during class earlier. It got shattered into pieces, like she actually cut the pieces herself. It had our initials, so I had another one made just like it. As I headed out of the jewellery store, I saw Taylor waking on the other alley with another guy. I stared at them as she got to the guy’s car. Blood rushed to my head, and I felt dizzy. That guy doesn’t have any right to be with her! He hasn’t gone through all the humiliation she made him go through just to prove he really loved her. I’ll get her back.
It was only a 3 years ago when I first met Taylor and it was definitely NOT love at first sight. She was gothic then, still finding her true identity. She was so tough, so lonesome. She loved black, and every day she liked to get mad at someone. She was still struggling because her parents just had a divorce and I was trying my best to avoid her. It wasn’t until last year, when she bloomed into someone else. She began talking and actually communicating to other people. She began to wear other colours, and began participating in different activities.
Then the guys dared me to ask her out. I recently broke up with my ex, and they wanted me to try someone else. It went great at first, but then she found out it was all a dare, and tried to break it off. But then I already grew attached to her, and begged her to stay. But then she began to act weird, always paranoid that I didn’t love her. She became someone else again, she began to always test my patience and piss me off. But I grew more in love with her that I couldn’t bear the thought of my life without her. Every time we broke up, I always try to lower my pride and be the one to say sorry. But this break up was killing me, shredding my very being when I can’t spend a day without her. I need her back.
After almost 2 months, she still wouldn’t budge. She still couldn’t forget everything I’ve ever done. She actually made a blog about all the words I always mispronounce and misspell. Then she started writing about all these guys she’s been dating, all whom made me vomit at every cheesy description. I knew she didn’t write the entry as she hates cheesy words. She’s just trying to make me jealous. And why would this pretty face of mine be jealous of some rebound guy? Ha. (Hide jealous streak)
One night, I couldn’t take it anymore. I dialled Taylor’s number and waited for her to pick up. When she did, I took out my old notebook and started saying sorry for all the things I’ve done wrong. After the confession that actually lasted two hours, she finally got her turn to talk. “What are you trying to say here jack? That we need each other? Because we’re perfectly imperfect? That we still love each other even though we make mistakes? I don’t need this drama” then the line went dead. I don’t know what else to do or say to her. I miss her badly.
My friends cajoled me into going to blind dates, trying to help get my mind off Taylor. Last night was a disaster, as I realized later that I sounded like the needy boyfriend. A needy EX-boyfriend. There was this one girl, Cris, who was a complete opposite of Taylor. She actually loved romance, liked reading books and didn’t spend too much time on technology. She was so nice at first, but kissing her was like kissing a dead body. She was a bit conservative when it came to a simple kiss, and doesn’t like being messy. I missed being snuggled up with, though I get my ribs hit, at least Taylor knew how to kiss. Huh. I miss her more.
I felt guilty about dating someone else even though I still loved Taylor, so the next few weeks, I wanted to go personal again with her. I sent her short poems, in places she was sure to notice. But she always seems to have the upper hand, always trying to find a way to avoid my poems. Huh. But I guess someone else is enjoying my poems. Because every time I go to the classroom to take back the poems, they were always missing. Good thing someone appreciates my poetry.
“Come on. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of her NOW. You’ve been with her for almost a year, you know her.” Against all their will, my friends told me to try to get back with Taylor, like I haven’t tried that one before. They say confront her face to face, that they’d be there behind my back. Ugh. I sent one of them to tell Taylor I needed to talk to her. She agreed. Maybe she thought of finally telling me I don’t have a chance anymore. Here she comes. And there my heart goes. Relax, I tell myself.
I tell her everything I needed to say, with all honesty, though it was awkward with my friends around. During my big speech, I caught her smiling. My heart did a leap. At last, I thought, my one and a half month of torture is over. She’s so cute when she denies she just smiled. My friends told me to kiss her already, but I just gave her a hug instead. Save the kiss for later.
That night, we went out to celebrate our anniversary. Did I mention that our anniversary was today? Well, Taylor still wanted to celebrate it, even though there’s a 2 month gap. She said “It’s still the same. We got back together, it’s not like you asked me out on a first date.” We went to this new restaurant in town, and bribed the receptionist because we “forgot” to make a reservation.
“So, what do you want to eat?” I asked her.
“You first.” she said, still looking at the menu. The waiter came and I gave our orders.
“I thought I told you I wasn’t finished choosing my order? What did you just tell that waiter?” she said, looking mad and confused at the same time.
“I didn’t have to wait for you to tell me. I know you wanted the chicken” I knew it was her favourite, and I saw her features relax.
 “Thanks.” she said with a smile.
The night went great so far, and after dinner, we went home coz she needed sleep for school tomorrow. “Thanks for a great night Jack. Although the chicken was a little dry and the gravy tasted like a thousand years, I still enjoyed it.” 
I held her chin and gave her a goodnight kiss. I will love you forever, the kiss said. 
“Whoa.” she exhaled after the kiss.
 “I’d say. That was the best kiss so far.”
She looked at me and said, “Why, have you kissed that much girls?” she raised her brow as I jokingly replied, 
“Yeah. But you’re the only one who’ll kiss me where I never want to stop.” 
She punched me lightly on the face and went inside.
“I love you.” I said as she closed their door. I jumped in happiness that I almost tripped and land on a dog’s waste. Ha-ha. Small price to pay for the happiness I’ve just felt.
A week later, she took me out shopping, after she almost destroyed my room looking for new clothes. While we were cruising around, I bumped into someone. It was Cris. Taylor was in the rest room, so it gave us time to talk.
 “So, how are you?” I asked. Her face looked like it aged a bit, and it was obvious she was crying. 
“What’s wrong?” I had to ask.
She started crying, and said between sobs, 
“You know how frustrating it is, to spend a great week with someone, then you never call them back?Then you see them with another girl, just having the time of their life?”
Then, I suddenly remembered that I told her I’ll call her, but I didn’t actually mean it. 
“Look, I’m sorry Cris.” I said, trying not to sound shallow.
“Why did you even kiss me if it meant nothing to you?”
 I stared at my shoes and said “I’m sorry. I just got back with my girlfriend. I…”
Taylor came from behind my back, saying “let’s go Jack. Uh, who are YOU?”
Cris nodded at me and walked away. “Well she was rude. Who was that Jack?”
My gaze followed Cris’ steps, as she sobbed. 
“Why was she crying?” I looked at her.
 “I don’t know. She was definitely weird.”
She looked at me with suspicion in her eyes. 
“Are you sure you don’t know her at all?”
I smiled at her and said, “I’m sure.”
After the party at her parents’ house, Taylor wanted to go to the park for the rest of the afternoon. I waited downstairs while she went upstairs to change. She came down five minutes later, light make up on and wearing a yellow dress. I’ve never seem her this pretty. She’s always been beautiful to me, but she looked like a princess that any guy would be proud to show off to the world.
“You look so beautiful” I told her when she reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Thanks. You know I don’t wear this often.”
I nodded as we went outside. During the car ride to town, she sat quiet, like she’s thinking about something.
“You ok?” I asked her.
“Um, yeah” she still looked sad, and when I held her hand, it was so cold.
“Are you sure you’re ok?” I asked her again.
She nodded as she stared out the window.
CHAPTER 3
I sit here in Jack’s car, looking like a fool in a yellow dress. I try not to make it obvious that something’s bothering me, but he seems to notice. He always seems to know what’s up. Huh. I wonder what he is thinking about this very moment.  I try to be as behaved as I could possibly do, and it wasn’t so hard to do. I just keep on opening and closing his windows and turning off and on the air-conditioner of the car. Huh. Say something, whispered to myself.
“Did you say something?” He said, glancing this way. Huh. He knows me too well!
“Uh, nothing. I just hope it doesn’t rain” I’ve been staring outside, and the skies were growing darker.
“Want to go home?” he asked, reading my concern about the weather.
“It’s ok. Maybe it will go away later.”
 As we got out of the car, I got out my umbrella and started walking towards him.
 “Are you sure you still want to take a walk? I mean, we could always come here another time.” 
He watched the gray clouds coming in, so I answered
“Yeah. I need a breather.” He smiled at me and said
 “Feeling weird seeing your parents in one roof?” I looked at him, and nodded. We were by a big tree now, with a bench adjacent to it.
“Want to sit down?” he laid his jacket on the bench, as we both sat down. 
“What’s wrong? I know something’s on your mind. What is it?” 
he looked at me intently as he waited for my answer. Ugh, why can’t I tell him?
“I have something important to tell you,” He seemed to hold his breath as he waited for what I had to say.
“Jack, I’m sick.” he stared at me and asked
“What do you mean sick? You look fine to me.” 
his voice was full of concern. Ugh. I feel so guilty for pouring this to him! I looked into his eyes and said
“I have an irremovable brain tumour. And, I don’t have much time.” 
The tears started to flow, while he took the news in.
Then, he started saying things like “What do you mean brain tumour? Like cancer?”
I nodded. The tears have flowed more.
“What do you mean you don’t have much time? Are you saying you’re leaving me in this earth dwelling, looking for lost love?”
I couldn’t stop giggling from his statement, putting poetry in the things he say.
“What?  You think I’m being funny?” 
I nudged his chin up with my elbow and said
“I love you Jack. You know that?” tears started to flow again.
He drew me to his arms and said 
“I love you too Tay.” 
he pulled me closer for a kiss, just in time before the rain started pouring in.
CHAPTER 4
“I’ll be here for you Taylor. Don’t worry.” 
I assured her before she went in for chemotherapy.
Taylor’s been crying since last week since she told me she had a ‘sickness’. It’s been frustrating to always see her cry, but I needed to be there for her.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m afraid about you; maybe you’ll get mixed up with a sex change patient for wandering around the hospital” 
She joked.
“That’s the Taylor I know.” I thought aloud.
“What did you think? You’ve been dating someone else?” 
she said in her sassy voice.
I gave her a kiss on the cheek right before the doctor came in. She gave my hand a squeeze and said
“Don’t go wandering to some other girl’s room okay?” she gave me a teasing smile as she got wheeled away.
It’s been two hours; I’m still lying here in the hospital waiting for Jack. I kept texting him, but he doesn’t reply. Where is he? I try to relax as the doctor instructed, but Jack’s been keeping me worried. I fell asleep because of the medicine. I wonder where Jack is.
“Shhh. She’s sleeping you guys. Don’t make too much noise.” 
I gathered all of Taylor’s friends and cousins for the past two hours. We decorate her room while she slept, looking like she’s been worried or something.
A while later, she woke up, “Surprise!” Her face lit up and she smiled. I came round her bed and kissed her head.
“Sorry I kept you waiting. Your friends were hard to find.” 
she gave a small nod, and took in the sight if the room. It was full of get well soon balloons, flowers and pictures. Tears swelled in her eyes as I gave her a rose.
“Really Jack? A rose? How unoriginal can you be?” 
everyone laughed as she sat up, arranging the flowers in the vase on the dresser.
 “Thanks everyone.”
After everyone left, Jack stayed for the night. He’s been so sweet to me, and I’m learning to appreciate everything he’s doing for me. It painfully makes me wonder what his life would be if I… Well, whatever his future will hold, I hope it will be the one I never experienced. Any guy would have left me in a heartbeat on knowing that I’m dying, but he stayed through. He’s sleeping now, his hands on my bed, and I try to reach for the remote from the table in front of me. One move woke him up and he reached for the remote as if he knew what I was reaching for, like he read my mind or something, weird. Or maybe he was going for the remote, but then he saw my hand; so much for my fantasy.
The days that followed were a blur. I had to always be in time for chemo sessions, and sometimes Jack and I had to postpone our dates so I won’t be late. Yet, he always understood. I had to stop going to school, because what was the purpose of attending a graduation day if you’re rotting to death? Jack still went to school though, after I told him his life had to continue even if I wasn’t there. I got in and out of the hospital lately, and I was getting tired of it. I begged Jack to take me someplace else, but he just loves me too much that he doesn’t want me to die faster. Huh. It makes ME want to die faster.
“Come on. It’s just the weekend” I cajoled Jack.
“I told you already, you need rest.” 
I felt frustrated after 3 hours of trying to convince him to take me out if town for the weekend. 
“No. Can’t you see your still here at the hospital, attached to 2 medicines?” 
I shot him the look of desperation, and said
 “Yeah. I can see that. You’re not the one stuck here for more than a month.” 
I rolled my eyes and turned my back against him.
“Taylor,” he walked to the other side of the bed. “Why do you want to leave so badly?” I looked at the ceiling so he won’t see my tears.
“Because, I have only less than a year to live and I don’t want to die inside this stupid hospital around a bunch of strangers!” 
He held my chin and moved it towards him.
 “You really feel that? Well, let me tell you my side” 
he knelt down so we were face-to-face. “It’s frustrating to see the love of my life slowly being taken away from me.” I stared at him and said
“Love of your life?” 
he nodded and kissed me on the head. 
Then I said 
“but I don’t want to be the love of your life. Cause I can’t imagine you loosing me then you jumping to hell just to see me.” 
I turned to face the other side of the bed, and pretended to sleep.
She’s got her back turned and been lying still for 3 hours, and I’m losing my patience. I’m getting tired of all her nonsense, and really want to talk to her already. I was about to go out the room when she sobbed
“Jack, what are you going to do without me?” 
I got went to her side, and saw her tears. But as I got closer, I saw that she was sleeping, her eyes closed shut though tears flowed through them. I tried to wave my hand across her face to check if she was really asleep. She didn’t blink. And so I kept listening to her murmurs.
 “You’re full of hot air Jack. You’re so full of it!”
I didn’t need to hear that, so I started for the door again, when
“I love you Jack, In this life and the next.”
It melted my heart, so I went back to her side of the bed. I stared at her features, her nose, her eyes and lips. I caressed her face then moved to kiss her on the cheeks. Just then, she punched me. She got startled as I was.
“Ouch. What did you do that for?”
 I started to wonder if she was really asleep.
“For startling me stupid.”
She opened her eyes and said
“What are you still doing here? I thought you’d be out already, looking for a rebound girl.”
She raised her brow and added
“Or maybe you already found one and you weren’t her type.”
She let out a little evil laugh. I punished her with a kiss on her lips, and let her sleep.
I’ve been staring at the wall for the last two hours, remembering the words the doctor told my mom. I wasn’t suppose to hear them talking, but I rolled my chair to the door. I took off all the wires from my body and slowly tried to walk to the door.
“She’s been getting worse, and we’ve tried everything to help her stop the virus, but, things just turned for the worse. She has only less than a month to live.”
All my plans, all my dreams, all crushed by a stupid sickness. My body collapsed to the floor, and I tried to crawl back to my bed. My mom heard the noise, and came rushing in to help me back to my bed.
“Taylor Johnson! Would you please be more careful? And why did you remove the wires? Do you WANT to die faster?”
 I’ve never seen her crying before, and now her eyes were swelling with tears. I obeyed her and got into bed, realizing that it wasn’t easy being the mother with a dying only child.
“I’m sorry mom.”
It was all I could say, because I started to realize what kind of child I was. I hated her for making me leave my dad, but now I understood she only did it so I didn’t have to grow up with my dad’s drinking. A tear fell from my eye. She wiped it away and said
“No crying now, okay?”
Her voice was shaking, like she could collapse anytime like I did. I love my mom. I can’t believe it took death to realize that. 
Chapter 5
Her last few days were counted. Jack gave her all his time, after he graduated. Everyone prepared themselves to whatever could happen. But the worst was yet to come. Taylor suffered a minor heart failure, but was quickly revived by the doctor. She was completely paralyzed now, and her medications were of no use. Finally, the doctor told them what they have been expecting
“She has only until tomorrow to live”
As tears flowed and words were preciously said, Jack stayed at her side, hoping that maybe she would wake up before saying his last goodbye. He took out his list, a list of all the best times they spent together. He spoke to her, hoping she was there to listen.
“Remember the time during Halloween when we dressed up as zombies? We scared the heck out of those trick or treaters that some of them never came back.”
He felt her hand move from beside him, and he caught a glimpse of her smile forming at her lips. He immediately ran his fingers through her bald head, and kissed her forehead. With tears in his eyes he said,
“I’m sorry for all the things I’ve done wrong. I’m thankful that I stepped on your shoelaces. I’m thankful that I was welcome in your life. I love you Tay.”
“Even when I’m dying you’re just so corny”
He looked at her in the eyes and saw that they were sparkling, and he kissed her lips softly.
“You’re my light Jack.”

“And you are mine.”

“I love you.”
She said, smiling at him at the same time.
“I love you more.”
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
Jack woke up with a start. His alarm went off with a long beeping sound, and he lay awake, his head throbbing from his dream. He checked his phone, and for the first time ever, he smiled when he saw he had 50 missed calls from Taylor. 

Yesterday’s tragedy


A broken heart. A mind-bending twist. A story better left untold. 

I looked around at the shattered pieces of my mom’s wedding vase. I couldn’t help but cry, and I see blood flow from me. I was trying to remember what got me here, and my head ached and suddenly I blacked out. It wasn’t the best state to be found in, but that’s how John found me. Half dead, blood everywhere, and broken glass surrounding me.

A forgotten promise. A subconscious pain. 

“Katy,are you okay?” 

his voice echoed through my brain, as my eyes fluttered open. An undeniable scent of air freshener filled the air, and the walls were plain white. I tried to move my right hand, then I realized that I was hooked on to something. 

“Jo-John?” I managed to mutter. 

He immediately let out a sigh, and held my left hand tightly. He stood up to call the doctor, and went back in. I felt a pang of sharp pain on my stomach, and as the pain subsided, the doctor came in. He wore a foolish smile, as he saw me awake. 

“Mrs. Katy Jones. I see you’re awake now.” 

I squeezed John’s hand as I felt another pang of pain. 

“You’re stomach?” 

The doctor asked, and I nodded immediately. 

“It seems like your baby is still twisting knots inside.” 

My heart dropped. I felt blood rush to my head. Baby?! 

“I forgot to congratulate you by the way, you’re eight weeks pregnant.” The doctor continued. 

I felt like fainting again. A BABY?! That’s when I remembered. John isn’t supposed to be here. He’s the devil who put me in this state in the first place. He has to leave before- 

“Oh, and Mr. Jones, please do take care of your wife. This accident shouldn’t happen again.” The doctor concluded and finally, he left. 

A beautiful lie. An ugly truth.

“John, I can DO this. Leave me alone already.” 

He kept helping me with my breakfast like I’m some retard. 

“Stop it okay? Go home.” 

I gave him a sharp look, and I continued eating on my own. 

“For pete’s sake Katy! Let me at least help you with something! I don’t want to be a useless father!” His voice echoed through the room, and I couldn’t help but feel a little scared. 

“You’re not useless,” I finally said. “I just hate it here. That’s all. I want to get out already.” 

I lay down my bed and started to sob. I hate crying. Especially in front of jerks like John. 

“Jeez Katy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scream at you like that.” 

I looked at him in the eye and asked “Do you really WANT this baby?” 

He looked away, then finally said, “I’m not sure. But I want to be responsible for this kid. I want to take care of both of you.” 

I felt rage creep into my skin, waiting secretly to be revealed. “We don’t NEED you.” 

I turned away, not able to meet his eyes. He slammed the door behind him, leaving me to the sound of the AC buzzing.

An offered help. A beg for forgiveness.

My stomach ached throughout the month, and before each check up, I was scared that the doctor would say my baby is dead. I grew attached to the living creature lurking inside me, talked to “it” ever since I left the hospital. I had an appointment today after work, and I swear, my heart was racing when I reached for the door. When I peeped in to look at the doctor, I was surprised so see another person in, who beamed at me the minute our eyes met. 

“Hello. You look surprised. I’m Doctor Jacobs. Doctor Kent went on a vacation for a month so I filled in for him.” 

I slowly sat down and shook the stranger’s hand, unsure if I should trust my baby with this person. 

“What can I do for you today?” He gave me a winning smile, and I only blinked at this. 

“Well, I’m on a routine check up. Doc said that I had to come here every other week.” I tried not to look too comfortable, as he looked through my records. 

“Well, let’s take a look at your baby shall we?” I lied down and pulled my blouse up, as the doctor scanned my baby. 

“Well Ms. Kate, seems like your baby has a playmate.” 

I looked at the screen and saw another head, 2 more hands and legs. I was shocked knowing I had twins, and it was hard to believe that I had 2 living things inside of me. I thanked the doctor, and gave him another handshake. He gave me that winning smile again before I closed the door.

Another life. Another hope.

When I got home, I was surprised to see John outside. 

“Katy,you look, blooming.” 

I smiled at him politely, and said “That’s what I get for having two kids at the same time.” 

His jaw dropped to the floor as I got into the house. 

“TWO?!” He exclaimed at me, wide eyed and shocked. 

I sighed before saying, “Yes, two. Don’t bother even trying to help me, cause I’m going to raise them on my own.” 

I walked past him and went to the kitchen, where he followed me. He ran his fingers through his hair as he went near me. 

“Look Katy, I want to help you. You’re still married to me, technically. Anyway we’re just separated right?” 

I looked at him straight in the eyes and said “I’ve already filed for the divorce papers, so you don’t have any right over these kids because they aren’t even born yet. You do not have a sense of responsibility over these children, nor will I ask you to. So leave me alone. You already left me once, you could do it again.” 

I turned my back at him, and went up to my room. The moment I locked the door, I burst out crying, pained to see my soon-to-be-ex and soon-to-be-dad of my kids. He still has this effect on me, and I can’t move on easily knowing I’m carrying his genes inside me. The thought is nauseating. I heard the porch door click, and a moment later I hear him pull out the highway.  

“There he goes babies.” I whisper to my stomach. “Daddy’s gone.”

2 new lives bloom. One intertwined with the other.

It’s been 9 months and 3 weeks since John left me. He didn’t even bother to call me even when I texted him that the babies were born. So I didn’t bother writing him down as a legal guardian on their birth certificates. The two boys were born in a beautiful May day, and my family supported me all the way. 

Though I still lived in our apartment that I won in court, they visited me every other day, checking in on the twins and me. When I had to work my sister would come over and did her work at home to watch the kids. I was so thankful of my family, but slowly I felt like a burden to them. 

My sister moved in after a month, and we both took charge of taking charge of the baby. Things went well until one night when her boyfriend asked her to marry him. She moved out, and I was left alone with two 3 year old boys. Joseph, the eldest, looked like his dad. Blue eyes, brown hair, and was just so hyper. Jonathan, took after me, quiet and timid, with blond hair. They were everything I had, and I cherished them both. I just hope that maybe someday, they would get to meet their dad. It may not be today, but maybe when they’re old enough to understand. 

A life-threatening disease. A life, lost in the sands of time.

As I took my kids to a check up, I felt a headache. I got dizzy for a moment, but I recovered remembering I was driving with my two treasures in the front seat. 

“Mama!” Joe said. 

I looked at him briefly and asked, “Yes baby?” 

He cutely pointed at me, and laughed. I didn’t know why, but I laughed with him. Nathan kept quiet as usual, and I know he’s nervous about going to the doctor. 

“Nathan honey! Blow mommy a kiss!” I said, trying to cheer him up. 

He put his hand on his mouth and kissed it and blew it to me. He smiled, just as we were parking at the hospital. 

“Now you two behave ok? I’m giving you lollipops after the check up.” 

They both beamed at the word, and sat down on the waiting room while I got their names listed.  When I touched their foreheads to check if their fever went away, it was still very high. They were talking loudly though they were sick. When their names were called, they immediately bounced towards the clinic, and said hi to the doctor. I explained what was happening to them, what I’ve observed, and then took the boys’ temperatures. 

“Ms. Kate, I suggest you let your kids take a blood and urinary exam. Also, you need to confine them already in the hospital as soon as possible” 

My heart went crazy, afraid of what the doctor may say about the kids. But I did what he asked me to do, and got the twins a room in the hospital. They were both easily distracted by the TV that they didn’t mind when the nurses came in and took their blood. My family came and went, some stayed with me. The next day, the results were out. While my mother entertained the kids, I went out to talk with the doctor. 

“Kate, I’m afraid my fear has been confirmed.” 

A single cold sweat streamed down from my forehead, as I urged the doctor to go on. 

“Both Joe and Nathan have Leukemia. The disease your father had has been passed down to them.” 

Tears streamed down my face. I don’t want to go through losing someone to cancer, and now I have to loose two. 

“Isn’t there a cure?Can’t they go through medication? Anything? Please. They’re all I have in this world.” 

The doctor nodded, then left. The next few weeks dragged on, and I was getting tired. I want my kids off these IV’s and in my house safe and sound.  But as days dragged on, the boys were getting weaker. The nurses say it was because of all the medication they’ve been getting, but a mother knows when she’s losing her own kid.

One day as I went down to the canteen to drink coffee, I saw a familiar face on the door. As he neared me, I recognized John, all bearded and yet still gorgeous. 

“Hey Kate.” 

That made me breakdown in a second, and he came rushing to me, comforting me. 

“We can do this.” He said as he caressed my hair. 

He then helped me up towards the kids’ room, and I introduced him as my friend to the kids. He immediately clicked with them, making them laugh. I’m sent into a daydream where we were an actual family. In a house, not a hospital. Just then, the doctor came in and asked for my audience. I gladly stepped out of the room, and patiently waited for the doctor to talk. 

“I believe, that the children have reached their final stage. Neither any medication could help, and a bone marrow transplant is not applicable since there are no matches. I suggest you ready yourself to whatever may happen to them.” 

I fainted in an instant, and I fell hopelessly to John’s arms. He was eavesdropping, and saw me fall. My children, my sweet boys.

A loss, a desperate attempt to ease the pain.

John stayed at the hospital for a few days, and I admit he began to grow on me. One night we decided to go out and get a drink, for old times sake, and to get away from all the drama at the hospital. We drank and danced a few, then we ended up in bed together. When I woke up I immediately rushed to the hospital, wanting to know how my kids were. When I arrived they were just given one of their medicines, and their faces lit up when they saw me. 

“Mommy look! I wasn’t scared anymore when the doctor took my blood!” Joe exclaimed. 

I smiled at him, remembering that I only had a few more moments to share with him. I went to their bed and hugged them both. 

“Mommy, when are we going out? I miss all of my toys.” Nathan said as he hugged me tighter. 

Then I got an idea. Since there wasn’t a way that they’d survive, maybe it was time to go home. 

“Sure. Maybe tomorrow. Would you like that?” 

He nodded his head enthusiastically.  That’s it. We’re leaving tomorrow.

As the doctor gave his permission to let us go, I felt a sudden pang of regret. What if something happens to them at home that I couldn’t aid? But i needed to be strong. At least for the boys. John had volunteered to stay at home, and told the kids to pretend that he is their dad. The kids were happy enough, and I was happy too. He began to make me feel happy again, and most nights he did. 

It wasn’t easy to cope with the fact that day by day the percentage that my kids are going to live decreases,  but I had to hide my fears away. It just wouldn’t be fair to the kids. During the few weeks that we’ve been together as a “family”, the boys have been sent to and from the hospital everyday. We still didn’t have any bone marrow matches, but maybe there was still hope. 

They grew weaker, and they were confined again after only 3 weeks of being at home. When they got weaker, they were subjected to life support, using a tube to give air to their lungs. It broke my heart whenever they wouldn’t respond, and I just couldn’t take in the fact that I was really losing my boys. “

This is it Kate. The last juncture for the boys. I believe we’ve done everything we could for them. You’d be the only one who could decide to pull the plug.” 

The doctor said one afternoon. Pull the plug? What are my kids, a game? But as I look into their beds, I felt a strong pang of pain. They need rest. Tomorrow I’m going to do it. I set the time to 8am, and I asked the nurses to do it. End my kids’ life? I know I could never do it even if I wasn’t drugged.  I spent hours just staring at my boys, recalling every moment I’ve ever shared with them. I’ve cried all night, till I fell asleep around 4am. And by the time I woke up it was too late, my boys were gone.

A new found life. A sanity lost.

“Kate, you have to make a speech for the boys now.” 

My mom has been with me through the mourning, and she was the first I could call after the boys’ death. When I went upstairs I was staggering, no doubt from all the sleepless nights knowing I don’t have my boys anymore. I’ve been crying nonstop, and John stayed at my house through those nights. He also mourned for the boys, feeling a certain pang of regret of not spending more time with them. 

By the time the burial was done, my head was foggy. I’ve been vomiting every morning for 3 days straight, and I haven’t got a lot of food in my stomach. I went home all by myself, telling John to go to his apartment. And that’s when I saw them. Pictures of the boys,   their toys, their favorite pictures. I went crazy, throwing the stuff around.  Some vases got broken, and I’ve got cuts everywhere. 

My stomach hurt so bad, and I couldn’t stop crying. I’m all alone. I looked around at the shattered pieces of my mom’s wedding vase. I couldn’t help but cry, and I see blood flow from me. I was trying to remember what got me here, and my head ached and suddenly I blacked out. It wasn’t the best state to be found in, but that’s how John found me. Half dead, blood everywhere, and broken glass surrounding me.